


Memory Lane Drabbles

by Scarlet_Streak



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Around 350 words a chapter, Based on my actual childhood, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, I swear it's in a context that makes sense, I'm Sorry, Slight swearing, Swear jar, just trust me, married with children - Freeform, poop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:42:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27586949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_Streak/pseuds/Scarlet_Streak
Summary: My childhood was interesting--or, at least, I think so. So, I thought I'd take some of the more amusing stories and put them into fanfiction! Each story will involve a different Sans or Papyrus--my current plan is Underfell, Underswap, Undertale, Fellswap, and Hackedtale (my AU!).You're married to a skeleton and have a beautiful child. However, children are not easy, and sometimes things happen that are equal parts catastrophe and amusement. Let's hope your beloved husband can handle it.
Relationships: Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Kudos: 8





	1. Earmuffs!

You love your husband, honestly. He’s charming, funny, and caring with just the right amount of chaos and suggestiveness to keep things interesting. A bit rough around the edges, sure, but he’d come so far since the monsters emerged from the Underground. Sans was the perfect husband and doting father--that is, except for one thing, the reason why “shit” was numbered among your beautiful daughter’s first words. Normally, this would have been fine; you would have gently explained things to her, heavily scolded him, and gone on with your day. But no, things could never be that easy. You received a call at work from Annabelle’s daycare and left early to pick up your very confused four-year-old, who didn’t understand why she was in trouble. The car ride home and the few hours before your husband got home were spent consoling your toddler. Sans’s evening was not so pleasant--you’d never seen him retreat as far into his red turtleneck as he did when Papyrus found out about his niece’s daycare debacle. You spent a week arguing about the best way to stop a repeat incident, before finally settling on a combination.

It was almost dinner time. Your little family was in the kitchen. Sans was preparing dinner and you were trying to convince Anna that broccoli was not the devil, a task that took a fair amount of convincing and post-dinner ice cream bribery. Suddenly, you hear a crash of breaking glass from behind you and a deep, frustrated noise. “Earmuffs?”

“yeah, if ya don’t mind, sweetheart.” You quickly cover your daughter’s ears as your husband lets out an incredibly creative string of expletives. You remove your hands as you hear the familiar clinking of coins into one of the many swear jars located around your house. On his way to the broom closet, Sans presses a bony kiss to your daughter’s cheek. “i swear, your daddy’s language is going to put you through college, annie.”


	2. Poop Catastrophe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, listen. This one is from when I was a baby, and it involves poop, as the title suggests. Proceed with caution if that could gross you out.

Papyrus hated changing diapers. Excrement was one of the many disgusting things about human babies that made his metaphorical stomach churn. However, he loved his son, so he was willing to look past this minor flaw, especially when it meant his spouse could go out with friends for an evening. For her, he would brave the spit up ruining his new shirt, the screams that rang in his ears, and, yes, even dirty diapers. He gingerly removed the soiled diaper from his son, before trying as quickly as possible to go through the steps you had taught him without scratching Xander. He, unfortunately, did not notice the concentrated look on his tiny son’s face before the stinky projectile left his body. On pure reflex, Papyrus drew his hand away. 

Unfortunately, he wasn’t near fast enough. The poop still got onto his hands, it would take hours to get the scent off his bones. Oh, and more importantly, the nursery wall. And the carpet. Damn it. He looked sternly down at his son, who was chewing his own foot, still diaperless and obviously pleased to have cleared his system. “XANDER, THIS KIND OF BEHAVIOR IS COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE. YOU POOP IN YOUR DIAPER, NOT ON ME! YOU’VE BEEN DOING THIS SH-- _ STUFF _ ,” his beloved niece’s daycare incident had made him more aware of the language he used around his son--he knew Xander couldn’t speak yet, but he didn’t want to take that chance, “FOR 8 MONTHS! YOU SHOULD KNOW TO WAIT FOR THE DIAPER!”

Xander removes his foot from his mouth to gurgle happily, obviously unaware of the meaning of his father’s words. Papyrus sighs, finishing his original task. He checks Xander’s crib for any unsavory stains before plopping him down and pulling out his cell phone, staring at the poop-strewn room as the phone rings. “Hey, honey, what’s wrong? Is Xander alright?”

“XANDER IS FINE, BUT I-- WELL, THE ROOM IS--”

“Papyrus, what’s wrong?” He takes a deep breath. “XANDER POOPED ON MY HAND. THAT POOP... MAY HAVE ALSO GOTTEN ON THE WALL. AND THE CARPET. HOW DO I CLEAN IT?” 

He’s offended by your hysterical laughter on the other end of the phone.


End file.
